A Little Black Book Called Desire


The thing about working the night shift of a college campus library was that very few people were around, at least at the beginning of the semester. Later in the year, undergrads would pack the stacks, writing papers and and participating in all night study parties. But right now, with the semester just starting and no major assignments due, my days were mostly spent giving tours and my night shifts were spent shelving what little there was to shelve and scanning entire sections searching for items on hold. Truth be told, despite technically being a computer aide working on her MLS, I often felt like I was a page again.

It was on one of those nights that I first found the little black book tucked in between two volumes of classical literary criticism. It was a small leather-bound volume, no bigger than a pocket notebook. The pages were yellowed and slightly curled, telltale signs of age, but the leather seemed brand new. It had no identifying marks except for the word “Desire” on the front, embossed in silver, evidently the title. Weirdest of all was the fact that it had no barcode, as if it wasn't even a part of the collection.

I flipped through the book. The pages were all blank. I thought that it must've been some kind of vintage notebook that a student or faculty member left behind, but something about the book made my back arch and my tail fur stick up, as though I could sense some sort of threat. I decided to take it to our lead worker for the night to see if they could figure out what to do with it. Yet no sooner had I turned to put it on my book cart than the book seemed to leap out of my paws before landing on the floor, open to two blank pages.

“How the hell did that happen,” I mumbled. “I'm not usually that clumsy.” I bent down to pick up the book, but as I reached a paw towards it I felt some unseen force grab me by the scruff of the neck and yank me downward. With a yowl, I felt myself plunge face first towards the open book, but just as I was about to collide with it, the world seemed to melt away and I found myself standing somewhere else.

The room I was in was covered from wall to wall in red silk. In front of me was a large, round bed, with red sheets and pillows. Sitting on the bed was a black goat, arms at her side. The goat was completely naked from head to toe. In spite of myself, I felt my eyes run up and down the goat's body. The goat had large, full breasts, and her legs were spread such that I could see the pink folds of her labia. I felt my cock begin to stiffen, and it was then I realized that I was naked myself. Instinctively, I covered my breasts with one arm and tried in vain to hide my erection with the other.

“Do not be so shy,” said the goat. “You were brought here by your desires. I sensed a longing in you, a longing for physical affection.”

“Who are you?” I asked.

“Call me Baphomet,” said the goat. “I am a goddess of wishes fulfilled. And you have a very specific yearning, my young feline friend. A yearning for the touch of another.”

I was true, there was no doubt about that. I had broken up with my girlfriend a month ago. She was looking for someone to marry, and I was not ready for that. We had both decided we were better off as friends. But as much as I had given myself time to get over it, I still missed being intimate with her. Had Baphomet truly sensed that yearning? Was I really dealing with some sort of goddess of desire?

As if in answer to my question, Baphomet walked over to me. Her eyes stared into mine, and I could see what seemed like the fires of creation themselves burning away behind her horizontal pupils.

“May I kiss you?” Baphomet asked. I nodded. She took my head in their hands and pressed her lips against mine. I opened my mouth, and she slid her tongue into it. My tongue repnded in kind. We kissed each other long and passionately, and when we finally broke apart I felt a yearning for more. She reached down and took one paw in each hand. I let her pull my paws away from my breasts and my cock, leaving myself fully exposed.

“You really are quite beautiful,” said Baphomet. “I have had my share of lovers over the centuries, but a new partner is always a treat. Come with me.”

She lead me over to the bed and laid down, legs spread, her labia moist and ready. She pulled me down on top of her and guided my cock into her folds. I gripped the bed and moaned in pleasure as I felt my member be engulfed by the warmth of her vagina.

“Ah,” she gasped. “Now start slow, and let's savor this.” And that is exactly what I did. Gently, I began to move my hips back and forth. Baphomet reached up and took my breasts in her hands, fondling them with care. She brought her head up to mine and kissed me deeply, moaning with me as I slowly started to build my pace.

For what felt like an eternity, we explored each other's flesh as I cleaved into her. We kissed each other's necks, suckled at each other's breasts, and moaned in ecstasy as we gradually built to the breaking point. Finally, I could stand it no longer. I felt myself reaching the apex.

“I'm gonna cum!” I gasped. Immediately, Baphomet hooked her legs around my hips, pinning me inside her.

“Then do it,” she moaned. “Spill your seed in your goddess.” I had no desire to deny her. My back arched as my balls twitched, and I felt my cock begin to pulse. With a yowl, I let loose a large, sticky wad of cum inside her. Suddenly, I fell her vagina close tight around my member, milking it for every drop as Baphomet's body began to shake. She moaned, clearly in the throes of her own orgasm. Soon it was over, and we kissed once more as my erection faded and we parted from one another.

We lay together on the bed for a time afterward, fingers intertwined, enjoying the afterglow. Soon, however, a thought donned on me.

“What happens now?” I asked.

“Now, you go back to the library,” said Baphomet.

“But, will I see you again?” I asked.

“If you have need of me, you will find my book once more,” said Baphomet.

“But what if I don't want to go—”

And suddenly I was back in the library, on the floor, fully clothed. I looked around. The book was nowhere to be seen. I sat up checked my phone. Only a couple of minutes had passed. I sat there on the floor for a moment, thinking about what I had experienced. Standing back up, I got the cart, and continued to work.

For her part, Baphomet kept her promise. There have been times since then when I've felt the pain of loneliness and the need for physical comfort. Whenever I feel like this, I inevitably find the book. It's not always in the library. Sometimes I find it on my bookshelf at home late at night, or lying on the bench next to me on the campus green. One time I even found it while hiking in the woods. It's kept me going on bad days and kept the light from fading when I felt the darkness of depression creeping in. There is something comforting in the simple knowledge that when things seem unbearable, I can spend the night embracing my Goddess of Desire.